Back to Panhandling

I started my new job when sales where BOOMING! I made more money my first month on the job than I had in years. It only got better as the following months went on. And then October happened….. {Insert crickets chirping here}

Yesterday, I made 119 phone calls. Of those 119 phone calls, I got two, count them TWO sales!!! I WAS REJECTED 117 TIMES!!!! In ONE DAY!!

Do you know what that does to ones self esteem? This sales stuff messes with your mind more than watching an episode of Jersey Shore does! Show me a person who enjoys a .02 success rate other than Kim Kardashian’s marriages, and I will give them .02 percent of my sales yesterday! (It’s not much! Don’t get too excited!)

With this in mind, I’ve been reminded that I am still waiting for everyone’s money to start filtering in. I started this blog in April and not one of you has paid up. Or gotten me on an episode of Ellen. Is it going to really take me dressing up in a pink tutu and singing a Nicki Minaj song to land me a spot on her show? Or is one of my friends going to step it up and follow through on their end of the deal?

Maybe I should aim lower and start with landing a spot on Chelsea Lately instead. I do love her show more than I like most people, but I don’t know what I’d do about the whole Chuy situation. You all know my fear of midgets…..

**side note: I’m only partially kidding about all of this.

Dear Diary.........

I was thinking to myself earlier today that I hadn’t written a blog post for a while. So of course, I sat with a blank look on my face and stared off into space for a good 32 minutes about what I could write a post about. Turns out, I just looked like an idiot staring out into space and came up with nothing.

How do I not have anything to talk about? I’m usually the one with an opinion (usually negative) on everything! So far this month, I’ve voiced my concerns about Facebook threatening to charge, complained I couldn’t find Halloween cereal anywhere, and announced to the world I puke when I get nervous. (I also may have lied about my age in this status, but that’s not a big deal.)

So then I started thinking a little harder (which is never really a good thing for me to do) and wondered how we ended up here. No dummies, I’m not wondering how we got here, despite what my mom thinks, I know all about the birds and the bees. I’m wondering how we got to the point that our every thought has to be poured out in some huge Facebook Status, or that we can’t deal with our feelings unless we write them down in a blog post for the world to see? Do people still keep private diaries? I know I never did, but I can imagine my diary being a lot like my Facebook posts….

July 16, 2010: Do I seriously have to listen to these stupid neighbor boys light fireworks ONE MORE NIGHT??? I HATE KIDS!!

April 29, 2011:  Had a great day at work, I didn’t say one bad thing about anyone today!!

September 27, 2011: Flipped my neighbor off today! I’m not even sorry!  

And lets not forget my claim to fame:

April 23, 2010: Just saw a deer completely castrated on the side of the road!!

Looks like I was able to come up with something to talk about for a blog post! To make a point to this post, I think its funny that we all have decided to take our “diaries” viral. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Facebook and blogging and will probably continue to do it until like I said, they start charging. Social networking has actually turned out to be a pretty good thing for me. (I’m pretty sure Chris will disagree seeing how I online stalked him and forced him to be my boyfriend, he’ll get over it one day though.)

Shits and Shingles Fundraiser Walk

My brother is one of the nicest guys I know. He is such a patient, kind, and generous person.

But this blog post is about my other brother, Brock; a victim of Shits and Shingles. What is Shits and Shingles you ask?? Shits is street slang for IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).  Shingles, is a disease Brock, along with many other 75 and older humans, suffer with 2-3 times a year. Shingles is a form of the chicken pox, only it shows up in awkward patches on your body making it unbearable to touch and awkward to be seen in public. It is unfortunate there are so many who suffer from both.

 

Brock has been suffering from a shortage of bathrooms and porta-potties for years! I believe it is time we step up and make a difference for those suffering from Shits and Shingles. Please join me, along with many senior citizens, on June 22^nd 2016, in the first annual Shits and Shingles walk. This walk will be a half mile walk in the park, with 225 porta-potties along the route. There will be 3 rest stops containing Percocet and Immodium incase any flare ups take place for those walking and are victims of Shits and Shingles. (Crap bags available upon request for those with severe cases.)

Money raised will go towards providing 7-11’s across the country with better toilet paper, as a thank you from the many run ins they have had with Shit’s sufferers who couldn't quite make it to work. Also money will be used to provide a number of porta potties along the freeway, for those moments when the shits just won't wait for an exit. Funds will also be donated to help find a cure for victims like Brock, with Juvenile Shingles.

A special thank you to the following sponsors:

Honey Bucket

Immodium AD

Depends

Pepto

Milanta

Prozac

Larry H. Miller
Snoop Dogg

Kool-aid for Sale!!!

                                                   

I decided the one disadvantage to owning an iPhone is that my kids think they own it. The second I pick them up after work they're on my phone. It's not "Hi Mom! I missed you!" It's "Mom... can I see your phone?"

I was ok with Angry Birds, Tiger Woods Golf and even some what ok with Talking Tom; the annoying cat that repeats everything you say in an extremely annoying voice. But lately I keep getting this message: "Your Siamese cat is finished breeding" and I'm thinking, what in the hell are my kids playing, and how much did this cost me??

Apparently, the iPhone app creators, a.k.a. people with no life, have come up with a pet shop game that allows you to breed animals and sell their offspring to make a profit for the pet shop. I was a little worried I was going to witness the actual conception and delivery part of the Siamese cat litter, but luckily, that isn't part of the game.

What is this world coming too? When I was a kid I worked hard for my entertainment and money. I had to go outside, find a REAL cat on the side of the road, wait 2 minutes for it to get raped by some homeless ally cat, and then try to sell those kittens for a REAL profit. My kids are lazy and have no ambition. Tonight, I'm going to make them sell Kool-Aid on the side of the road and teach them what real kids do!

I'm an entrepreneur in the makings....

When I grow up and I’m successful, I’m going to build an adult only store. Ok all you pervy mc pervasons, not THAT kind of adult only store…. I’m talking like an adult only Walmart kind of store. Except higher class, and with smarter/better looking door greeters. And they’d probably wear pink vests rather than blue. OH! And instead of the lame smiley face, the mascot would be a unicorn.

Anyway, the reason behind my genius idea simply stems from having taken 2 boys to the grocery and/or department store ONE too many times. Is it just me? Or does anyone else turn into the “Mom from Hell” at the store? This is just a snippet of my last outing with my kids: “Carter! Stop putting your brother in a choke hold! Gunner! Stop looking up the mannequins skirts! BOYS!! If you touch ONE MORE THING we are NOT going to McDonalds after this!” (A completely empty threat however, because they know as much as I do, I’m not cooking dinner after this escapade.)

The front doors of my store will say, “NO CHILDREN ALLOWED!!” It will be a store for parents to shop in peace, without having to; A. Yell at their own kids and B. criticize other parents for letting their children scream at the top of their lungs in the middle of the store without beating them in public.

Think of how much money you will save by shopping at Adults R Us. -yes I just thought of that name mid blog post- There will be no kids throwing extra food or toys in your shopping cart. I swear my kids can meticulously place these items in the cart that I seriously don’t realize they are there until I check my receipt at home only to realize I’ve just purchased a $24.95 As Seen On TV item. Oh wait, that was the time I purchased a Shakeweight…. Scratch that, my bad!!

I’ll be collecting donations for my store starting today. Some of you Debbie Downers out there will tell me this is what online shopping is for. Don’t tear down my dreams; just give me your money!

Kudos My Hero, Leaving all the Best.....

My blog posts tend to have a lingering sense of negativity to them. Maybe it's because I'm still holding a grudge in life for never winning anything at the silent auction games all these years. I always guess the highest price and when I so call "win" the stupid thing, they want me to pay for it. That's lame!  Is this not the price is right??

Oh well, who knows where the negative side of me stems from. All I know is it's gotten me this far in life. Why change now?

But through my thick headedness and cynicism, I do have a soft spot or two in my heart. And right now, one of those soft spots is taking charge of my thoughts.

When I was a little girl, my favorite movie in the entire world was Winnie the Pooh. And my favorite place to watch it was cuddled up next to my Gramps. The day the VHS of my favorite movie broke was the worst day of any four year olds life! But Gramps came to the rescue and fixed the tape good as new! A hero was born in my eyes that day and 23 years later, I still see him as that. My hero. And not just becuase he fixed my Winnie the Pooh tape, but because he is by far one of the best men I know.

I've never left the presence of my Gramps without the chance to have heard one of his life stories. The man can talk about himself for hours. (right now my mom is singing, "Oh Lord it's hard to be humble") But even after hearing the same stories over and over, I never get tired of listening to him and soaking in his words of wisdom. Or listening to him recite some sort of poem that makes no sense to me, but sounds so perfect because of the way it can flow so effortlessly out of his mouth.

Over the past few years I've watched my Gramps battle cancer. I've watched him remain strong and encourage us as family members that everything would be ok. And through the ups and downs of the long road called cancer, he has continued to stay positive. Never getting down for a second. I think of how many times a day I mumble under my breath at how tired I am, or how bad I have it when in reality, I have it so easy.

I could go on and on about the times spent on the front porch swing watching humming birds with Gramps. Or the memories of him playing his elaborate collection of guitars and singing "every-time I go to town, them boys keep kickin my dog around" or some other old folk song he enjoyed.

I've gone through some pretty challenging trials in my life, and made some poor choices through them. My gramps has always been there to offer his advice without directing any judgment towards me and has always chosen to stand behind me and support me 100% in any decision I make. There have been so many times I've needed a shoulder to cry on and Gramps is always there to listen. And these days, if he gets tired of listening to me complain, he can just turn off his hearing aids!! ;) I am honored to have such a great man as a grandpa. You get better soon!! Love you Gramps!!

Another postcard from chimpanzees....

A friend invited me to the zoo a while ago. I hate the zoo. If I were to describe what the Hogle Zoo smells like, I'd say it stinks like a big ball of stinky elephant dung rolled in camel spit and pooped on by a chimpanzee who ate bad Mexican food the night before.

Why people enjoy walking side by side with others to look at caged and smelly animals is beyond me. And to make it worse, I always get stuck next to the crazy mom who has her kids on a leash when we are looking at the zebras and have to hear things like this: "no Windsong Bird Feather, (her granola childs name) Zebras are white with BLACK stripes!" Or "oh look Mary Jane! The Zebras are playing leap frog!" 

With my heightened sense of stress overwhelming me because I feel like I'm literally in Hell, it takes every ounce of energy to not slap that mom in the face then tell little innocent Mary Jane that those Zebras are NOT playing leap frog, they are making a baby. A little stinky zebra baby! So it too can live in a cage and have no privacy too poop, sleep, eat and play "leap frog."

Please don't think I'm some big "animal rights" hippie now. I just REALLY don't like the zoo. My kids won't be missing out either, they can watch the same thing from the comfort of my 68 degree home that smells like a cinnamon scentsy on Animal Planet!